


triptych

by hoopdedoop



Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-07-24 20:23:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16182512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoopdedoop/pseuds/hoopdedoop
Summary: Alikeness attracts.





	triptych

 

 

The alarm went off at 6 am. The apartment floors were a little cold, serving as a reminder that spring was not here just yet. Tired and stiff, leaving the warm bed felt like divorcing an illusion of security. Shapeless dreams had gone by, not leaving a single imprint. In the kitchen, a window had been left open to air out the greasy fumes from last night's dinner. On the counter, a crisp five thousand yen bill. He'd seen it already a few days before, but not touched it. It came with a note that simply read _Groceries?;_ all else self-explanatory.

There'd be no point for Mikuru to leave him a shopping list. She was not the one keeping track of the contents of the fridge, or the pantry, but Chrono. As such, he knew, that before the day was over, he'd need to go shopping. Although there wasn't much food left, he preferred to try and make it last as long as he could. Chrono never reflected much over chores. He just did them. Moreover, he didn't like using money if he could help it.

There was a calendar stuck on the fridge. The days a month Mikuru would spend at home were outlines in red, rather than vice-versa. Chrono used it sparsely, occasionally adding a few notes that only he could understand. He cooked breakfast and lunch, yawning into the kitchen fan, the resulting tears clouding his vision just a little. With nary a thought in his head, he packed his bag, lunch and books, ate his breakfast and got dressed. First time he went out the door, he left his bag behind. On the roof, he'd left the laundry drying overnight. He didn't have time to wash small loads every each day. Picking the fresh, crisp cold clothes one by one from the laundry lines only took so long. The trip from the roof to the elevator, back into the apartment was a balance act of sorts.

The elevator stopped ahead of his stop. A lady who he recognized as a neighbor was getting on the elevator.

"So," Her eyes bore into him, and Chrono didn't know where to look. If he looked people in the eye, it tended to unsettle them. "It really was you, leaving out leaving laundry out throughout the night."

"I'm terribly sorry, ma'am." Having been caught irritated him, but he knew he could not afford to let that show.

"Does your aunt know that you keep forgetting her laundry out like this?"

"I'm... terribly sorry, ma'am." He hadn't forgotten it. He'd left it out on purpose, to make things come together. While he had no plan to explain, his apologies were not as insincere as he knew they seemed. "I won't do it again."

"Well, you better not."

The elevator ride came to an end. Managing to get the door open with his arms full, despite each time forgetting how he did it the last time, Chrono escaped into the apartment. He put the load down on the couch, and saw, that it was a little later than he'd thought, and there was more laundry than he'd remembered. Without panicking, he made his decision. If he didn't fold the clothes now, he'd have to iron it all after he got home from school. Last semester it might not have been much of a problem, but he had homework, and he had to go grocery shopping. If he wanted to stop by Card Capital for even just an hour, he'd need to have the laundry done before school. 

The decision he'd made was, that he'd just have to hurry, hurry as much as he could.

 

 

 

His bike wasn't that old or unreliable, at least not enough for the chain to unexpectedly hop out of place. That was what Chrono had thought, at least. Once he was going down the road, it seemed to be doing fine. By the intersection by the river, under the suspended highway, the lights flashed yellow, and Chrono came to a stop, and just as he thought, that he did really not need this, that now, he'd be late for sure, he felt a gust of wind pass him by.

The very same purple uniform, and on top of that, he recognized that haircut, with the long hair that thinned out past the shoulders. Tokoha had flown right past him, ignoring the street light and headed straight into traffic. A passenger car honked its horn, loudly, and in anger she loudly yelled back something unintelligible. Chrono stared at her, watching her race across the bridge at top speed, passing each red light post faster than the next.

She only got so far. She'd been caught by the red traffic lights on the other side of the bridge, by the Asakusa metro station's 4th entrance. Living proof that her stunt had bought her no time, Chrono rolled up next to her.

"You realize what you did back there was super dangerous, right?" He muttered. 

 ** _"Oh why don't you--"_** She had snapped, easily, like a twig. **_"Mind your own business?!"_**

With that, the light was green.  _"You obviously overslept just like I did, so shut up!"_ Standing up on the pedals, Tokoha was off with a powerful start, pushing herself forward with her whole body weight.

Chrono had just about immediately regretted what he'd said. It had been an unnecessary comment, and he'd gotten the response he deserved. Although he too was late, Chrono didn't ride Tokoha's tailwinds. He let her bike a block or so ahead of him. Coming in late together in the morning was embarrassing, anyway.

Parking his bike by the gate, Chrono saw Tokoha disappear inside the building, and as he came inside, he saw her disappear up the stairs. The school grounds and the corridors were empty. Class had already started. Locating his shoe locker, Chrono allowed himself to be distracted for one gone-by second. He assumed there wouldn't be anything in there, other than his shoes. Yet, other possibilities always crossed his mind. It was easy to be conditioned to expect the unexpected. All in all, the improbable ways of which he'd acquired the cards in his collection still felt so odd, Chrono was certain that with enough time, he'd manage to convince himself it was all nothing but make-believe.

His locker was empty today. That made sense. Cards had started to find other ways to him.

He walked slowly up the stairs, through the hallways. He could never risk running. He made it into the classroom, apologizing for a second time that morning, as politely as he could, facing the floor. When he walked to his seat, he saw Tokoha, looking both irritated and embarrassed, refusing to acknowledge him. It didn't anger him. If anything it felt convenient. He still felt bad for what he'd said.

 _Why don't you try and act a bit friendlier?_ Is what she'd told him, one time. Interactions with others were frustrating. Chrono had become accustomed to people assuming things about him. His own avoidant behavior acted like a self-fulling prophecy. Chrono was aware, but he didn't know how to make it stop.

 

 

 

It was sunny in the afternoon, and as the school day was ending the building was thinning out, students pouring into the outdoors. Chrono had gone to get his bike and he'd found a ruckus going on by the bicycle stand. Tipping her bike over in the dust with a whistling crash, Tokoha was clearly upset.

Planning to do what he did best, and mind his own business, Chrono bent down to unlock his own bike.

 _"Shindou,"_ Pointedly, Tokoha addressed him, "You didn't do anything to my bike, did you?"

Frankly, he didn't know what to say. "...Why would I do anything to your bike?"

_"Wh-"_

"-Oh, hello," Pleasantly, and jarringly so, Shion greeted them. "Is something the matter?"

"My bike was perfectly fine this morning, but now the tires are busted," Tokoha didn't enjoy explaining herself.

"Oh dear, that's strange." Shion agreed, hollowly. "You're headed to Capital, right?"

They'd see each other around. It was hard not to. "Well, _yeah."_

Chrono had pulled his bike out, and was ready to go. As he left, he heard them converse.

"I could take you at the back of my bike, if you'd like," Shion offered, and Tokoha wasn't sure why, because it sounded so forced, so insincere.

"No, that's... _fine,"_ She could only guess he'd foreseen that she'd decline. "I'm waiting for Kumi, anyway."

"Alright then," Shion, didn't sound bothered or upset. He was smiling, and Tokoha felt a little uneasy as he left.

She only had to wait another few minutes for Kumi to catch up with her.

 

 

 

She'd been upset since that morning. Her brother was working out of town for the week. She'd been aware of that, going to bed. She'd been aware, but she still hadn't expected the wake up call not to come. Tokoha had skipped breakfast, and gotten ready while her parents ate. She was angry with them, and she was angry with herself. Her frustrations became twisted, until they didn't make sense anymore.

She'd carried her bad mood with her through the school day, and at first, she'd carried them with her to Card Capital as well. There, her frustrations bore a different fruit. She'd forgotten to hold back today. Tokoha got the ball rolling, rolling into an impressive win streak. She'd planned to just stay for a while, but that idea drifter further and further away. When Shin was getting to ready to lock up the shop, she was one of the last to leave. Tokoha deserted the small lingering group already by the door, as she was about the only one not headed for the station. It was starting to get dark outside. With some pocket change on her, and feeling a little hungry, she entered a corner convenience store on the way home. She didn't feel like seeing her parents just yet. Truth was, she was still a little irritated with them. At this point, she didn't care if she missed dinner.

Fried foods tempted, but she wasn't quite in the mood for something salty. As she browsed the aisle, she heard people enter the store, talking, making some noise.

She'd picked out a package of dorayaki with whipped cream and sweet beans when she heard someone speak, uncomfortably close to her.

"You're Anjou Tokoha, aren't you?"

She looked up, and saw two boys a few years her senior. High schoolers.

"Y-yeah? I am." As soon as she'd spoken, Tokoha feared for the consequences.

"We saw you play at Capital today, you sure were amazing."

Pressing her lips together firmly, Tokoha avoided eye-contact. She only vaguely recognized them, they weren't regulars at the shop. Most likely they'd come to test the local scene. The shop tended to draw people like that occasionally.

"I didn't get a chance to fight you," He was smiling, but Tokoha didn't feel like reciprocating.

"Oh, I must've missed you, then," Tokoha didn't know what he wanted her to say. "Sorry about that."

"You should come by our shop sometime," His friend steered the conversation when Tokoha refused to. "We'd love to have you."

"Oh, I don't, really..." She didn't have any actual excuse. She was more than satisfied just playing locally.

"Why not? It'll be fun. Besides, I bet you're looking for teammates, right?"

Tokoha laughed dryly. "I'm not, actually."

"Really? I thought I heard you say you didn't have a team."

Unease not settling, Tokoha wanted to leave. "Yeah, and I'm not planning on putting a team together,"

They laughed. "What? That's crazy. Someone like you,"

Tokoha decided then, that she was going to start walking away. "I'm sorry but I don't think there's anything crazy about it,"

She paid for her snack, and they lingered behind her. "You might change your mind, you know?"

"I'm good, thanks but no thanks. If you want a fight, I'll be at Capital." She'd turned to them to stand her ground. Tokoha really didn't think she was being unreasonable.

"Sure, but won't you at least consider it?"

"I have considered it. Now, I'd like to head home." The automatic doors slid open as she approached. Stepping outside, Tokoha felt a flush of anger as the presence of the two boys was still sticking to her.

"It's near Ueno, so it's not like it's far,"

Was she being obstinate? Was there something she did not understand? Feeling her feet heavy on the pavement, her head about to burst into a spiraling mess, Tokoha felt herself detach from reality. _Ueno,_ she thought; and they were right. It wasn't very far. She liked playing Vanguard. She still didn't want to go at all. She was queasy. The dorayaki she'd just bought was going to waste away.

"Look, I," She heard the hesitation that'd budded in her own voice. It made everything so much worse. The boys were smiling sweetly at her still, but she rather they didn't. "I don't know, I-"

Squeaking sound that she'd blocked out, the sound of an old wired hand break.

"Is there a problem here?" The clicking side stand somehow cut through to her, but she'd turn before she made the connection.

On his bike, his basket chock full of groceries, Chrono wasn't looking at her but at the two older boys.

 _"N-no?"_ One of them said, somehow uncertain.

"Anjou, do you know these people?"

"...They were at Capital today."

"Hey look man, we're just inviting her to come to our shop to play for a bit,"

"At this hour?" Chrono hadn't moved from his spot. He hadn't raised his voice. He didn't need to.

"Obviously not? I mean, some other time,"

With her grip tight on the flimsy plastic bag and shoulders stiff, Tokoha didn't look particularly charmed.

"Well, I'm sure she took the hint."

"Sure man. We don't want trouble,"

"Who said anything about trouble?" Chrono asked. Maybe his grip on the handles were a bit tight. He hadn't reflected on that.

 _"Right,"_ Stepping away in an awkward shuffle, they still did what they could to go out with some honor. "See ya, Anjou."

Tokoha didn't respond. She was relieved that it was over, even if she still wasn't sure what had happened.

"You really didn't have to do that."

"It looked like they were bothering you."

That much was true. Tokoha exhaled, and something left her, and floated away. "I really... have no idea what they were on about,"

"Do you think they might come back?"

Chrono hadn't been around to hear the whole conversation. It had yet to cross her mind. "I... don't know." She replied, and as soon as she did, she understood what it meant.

 

 

 

Tokoha held onto the bike, the rack itself. The front load was heavy, so they were going slow, swaying. She felt bad.

"I'm sorry I... accused you off messing with my bike. I don't know why I did that. I was pissed off."

Pedaling steadily, yet to be worn down, Chrono's face couldn't be seen from behind, even if she'd tried. Tokoha was staring beyond him, at the traffic. She wasn't really expecting him to respond, or accept her apology.

"Sure." Chrono shrugged it off. "Whatever."

He wanted to apologize too, but he felt stupid doing it now. He was used to excusing himself, but an actual apology was different. Going faster, his irritation built up like his speed. The words in his head piled up. _"Look, I-"_

Exhaling with his whole body, his anger got channeled into his words. "I'm sorry too, okay? I'm sorry I treated you like an idiot for running that red light this morning."

His words not matching his tone, Tokoha found Chrono more confusing than usual. "It was stupid of me to do that though, so it's not like you were wrong."

"Yeah but like, that's the point. You knew it was stupid. Anyone would. It's not like you needed me to tell you."

"...I guess."

It was dark, as dark as it would get in the city. Some ten minutes from her house, Tokoha asked Chrono to drop her off. He didn't complain, stopping his bike.

"Sorry for the trouble,"

"It's not like it's your fault."

Tokoha didn't ask about the groceries. Whatever that was about, it wasn't any of her business. With his assumptions, his actions, Chrono made it clear that he had a different perspective of the world than she had. If he'd been right, to intervene, Tokoha didn't know. She felt like she should know. She still wasn't sure about anything, except, when she watched Chrono turn his bike around, and get back on the seat, she realized that she'd never felt threatened by him.

Perhaps Chrono lived in a different world compared to most people. Maybe she lived in that world, too.

"Do you want a dorayaki?" She held up the plastic bag, and tried to smile.

"That's fine. I'd feel bad." He tried to smile, too.

With that awkward exchange, they both concluded it was best to say goodbye.

 

 

 

Mikuru eventually came home. Chrono didn't know how to react when she hugged him, held him and ruffled his hair into an even bigger mess than it usually was. He felt conflicted. It was because of him that she had to work so hard, and be away so much. He didn't want her to feel bad for leaving him as much as she did or pretend she missed him more than she did. It was also one of the best things that happened to him in his usual day-by-day life. They cooked dinner together, and conversed, even if sparsely, and about simple things.

It was just for two days. Then when Chrono woke up, the apartment was empty again.

Again, with the money left on table, Chrono took no note of it at first. After eating, dressing, getting ready, he ended up taking a closer look. Seven thousand she'd left him this time. Seemed like a lot. He read the note. _Buy food + something for yourself!_

He didn't really understand. Chrono tried to think if he needed anything, but nothing came to mind. He had clothes, and all the school supplies he needed. Eyeing the additional two thousand Mikuru had left him, the thoughts floated in and out of his head. Chrono never asked for spending money. He could not conceptualize want above need; if there was money left after buying food, it should be saved for other necessities.

The truth was, if not for the odd donations left by whomever had both his home and school address, Chrono never would have had the means to play Vanguard. Coincidentally, whatever cards he would have wanted to add to his deck they could not be bought.

The money felt like an obstacle. He pocketed it alongside the grocery money. He might need it for something, eventually. 

 

 

 

After school, student groups headed every which way home. Unaffected by the waves of movement, Chrono came and went on his own. The night before he had completely emptied the last package of panko in Mikuru's pantry, and he knew he needed to buy more on his way home. Ahead, he saw a group of his peers squeeze in through the doors into the very same convenience store situated on his route home. Chrono entered soon after them.

In the ambiance of the sounds of the corner store, Chrono's mind idled. He wouldn't have time to go to Capital today, so he had nothing to look forward to, and each time he found it a little harder to embrace the dullness the way he'd used to. Some things in his life had already changed, but he was not so keen on realizing it yet. Whenever he felt the call to ignore his responsibilities he felt childish. Chrono hated feeling childish above all and anything else. That was not who he was.

Pushed along by that counter-intuitive feeling, Chrono circled the aisle and was led straight into the queue for the register. Standing lined up along the magazine display, Chrono had passed the group of boys who'd entered the store just before him; his classmates. On the far end where raised partitioners obscured the magazine covers they stood huddled together, only half-heartedly trying to keep their voices down as they snickered. While he hardly cared for what they did, Chrono regardless felt disdainful, and some other emotion he could not quite articulate. Ignoring them was not so hard, but it was even easier if he let his eyes pass over the visible magazine covers. His thoughts shut down, and he shut out the world with a burst of concentrated interest, as unexpectedly he'd spotted the latest issue of _Weekly Vanguard_ among them. Or he reasoned it must be the latest. He was usually able to read an thumbed copy at Capital, or hear about the news and articles from among the regulars, but he'd yet to see this cover. He didn't keep track of what day a week it came out, and he'd never considered buying it before. Now, the opportunity was presenting itself to him, neatly.

He reached out to grab the magazine, and saw that it cost 800 yen. He wouldn't have time to go to Capital today, but he would have time to read some of the magazine before going to bed. Before even considering, he'd made up his mind. He would buy it. Normally he'd be high-strung to spend any money. Suddenly the excuses were endless. He could let himself have this. Elevated spirits, something he never before could have associated with a simple convenience store purchase, something within him had given way. Chrono browsed the section with piqued interest. There were still a few people ahead of him.

The familiar face struck him hard, and the beckoning gaze sucked him in. Chrono was in a rush, and he reached out before thinking. Their hands almost touched, and the young woman just a head of him in line, several years his senior, smiled at him nervously. Withdrawing her hand quickly, Chrono knew instinctively that he'd intimidated her in his excitement.

"Y-you can have it," She took a step away from the display. "I was just browsing."

Chrono hadn't realized before she'd said it, but there was just one copy left. Embarrassed, an emotion that only seemed to alienate himself from her further as she quickly slipped up to the cashier, Chrono grabbed the last remaining copy of what turned out to be _Girls' Cardfight Digest_ , a monthly and rather hefty publication, a complete steal at 1200 yen. As he did, the snicker could be heard from right behind him. Hitting him on the way out, Chrono's classmates poured out of the store, without making any purchases.

Exiting himself less than a minute later, exactly two thousand yen's worth of pocket money poorer, Chrono felt like he'd made a misguided decision.

Once at home, apartment cleaned, dinner cooked, he did give himself some time to browse _Weekly Vanguard_. It gave him some rest from his uneasy and tangled thoughts. The issue of _Girls' Cardfight Digest_ , containing extensive interview with the cover-featured Olivier Gaillard, remained unread in his desk drawer.

 

 

 

P.E, not his least favorite subject, but not exactly his favorite time of the week either. Any other time he could get away with minding his own business, but that was hard when playing team sports. To not have friends was suddenly inconvenient. While most of the girls treated him with adversity, Chrono felt even more out of place among the other boys. Chrono never thought much about why he felt unable to connect with any of his peers, even at a casual level. He never thought about it because to him, it was obvious, and fundamental to his experience of life. Comparatively, it wasn't something that worried him. He was already busy counting the days, the weeks, the years, before he could be free, and never have to worry about spending someone else's money or living in someone else's house ever again.

He stayed behind on the field. When given the task to help clean up, he took it seriously. Others would bail, but it was something he found some satisfaction in doing. The changing room emptied out, and instead of heading home after last period still wearing his P.E uniform, Chrono got changed. He was not one to eavesdrop, quite the contrary. He looked down on such behavior, but it was hard not to overhear conversations held right next to you. The words floated into his head, and he wanted them to come and then go, but he knew they'd stick and bother him. Between the crude articulations, the subject matter and the tone used, there was something that disturbed him.

Just on the other end of the room, things were quite lively. Chrono was putting his folded clothes away in his bag, and with the permanent glare on his face, he'd happened to look in their direction at the wrong moment.

"What? You got a problem?" The very same snickering from when they'd run into each other at the convenience store the week before. "Huh? Shindou?"

Evidently, they'd managed to acquire one of the magazines they'd been caught browsing. How was a fair question, since they were still some four years to young to purchase it. They weren't hiding it, and Chrono tried to not look directly at it.

With nothing to say, Chrono did not respond. Their stares seemed to cut into him even with his back turned, and Chrono felt self-conscious in an unfamiliar way. The irritation he felt above all else was a secondary emotion. It was then, somehow unexpectedly, that their P.E teacher burst into the room through the back door. It was via a needless struggle and general lack of cooperation that the boys who had antagonized Chrono dug their own graves. Chrono saw it as nothing else but further proof of their immaturity.

No wonder he couldn't connect with anyone his own age, he thought. 

"Why are you still here? Is something the matter?" Sternly, he'd asked them the question. Their P.E teacher usually checked in on them after class, so his entrance shouldn't have come as a surprise. 

"It's nothing sir," Hastily, they had only lies and no diversions. Overall, they were acting very suspiciously. 

"Shindou?"

Chrono had just finished packing his bag and put on his shoes. Well aware he had a decision to make, Chrono did what he believed to be the right thing. Coldly, he spoke.

"...They're hiding an R-rated magazine. It should be in one of the bags. They put it away just now."

 

 

 

As he'd understood by the looks on their faces, no-one in that room had expected Chrono to rat anyone out. With no stakes of his own, nothing to lose, Chrono had simply said the truth. While the search yielded to that truth and drama blossomed, Chrono had thought his involvement in this affair would be finished and over with. He was wrong. He had gone home that day, walking out of the room as his classmates were only just starting to experience the consequences of their misconduct.

The next day, arriving in the morning, just as he'd swung his shoe locker open, Chrono heard his name called.

It was his homeroom teacher, looking at him cautiously, and Chrono felt vaguely sympathetic for her.

"As I'm sure you remember, you reported yesterday that one of your classmates was carrying a prohibited item. Well, he's saying you planted that on him to get yourself out of trouble. Is that true?"

Chrono did not regret what he'd done, for it was undoable. It was hard to look his teacher in the eye. That never helped. He spoke quietly. "I did no such thing, ma'am." 

"Well then, what happened?"

She was unassuming enough. Chrono could tell she did not enjoy having this conversation, either. The accusations were fake, and they both knew it. Yet, she was obligated to inquire. 

"They were already in the changing room when I got there." Chrono didn't elaborate beyond that.

"Is that so?" Dissatisfied with him, she said no more.

"Ma'am, we were both cleaning up the field for some ten, fifteen minutes after class, so I know Shindou was the last of the boys to get changed," Not asked, but regardless present, Tokoha spoke briskly. "Besides, they're obviously just lying to divert attention from themselves. It's really low, don't you think?"

With more credibility than himself, Tokoha's statement would certainly help getting him out of trouble. Where she'd come from, Chrono wasn't sure, but she looked at him only in passing.

"I see. I'll relay that. Thank you, Anjou." Excusing herself, their homeroom teacher disappeared.

Chrono looked at Tokoha, but she left heading up the stairs with marching steps without saying a word, nor without turning around to look at him further. Not visible on his face, it took Chrono himself a few seconds to realize he'd been shocked silent. He was confused, and yet, he had no problem putting Tokoha's actions into context. He hadn't expected that to happen, and he went through his day wishing he had the guts to thank her.

 

 

 

Chrono wouldn't know, for he didn't involve himself with others, but in-between classes his peers spoke of what had happened. He'd let it go, only barely taking note in the next few days of the few extra empty seats in class.

Mikuru came home again. She didn't ask about the money, but she seemed a little perkier than usual. She talked about how she'd made a good investment deal and how the new recruits were nicely integrating themselves. Chrono never said much to her, but he liked to listen. For once, the apartment was alive with the presence of another person. Mikuru didn't have time to cook him his lunch or help him much with breakfast, but it was okay. She left ahead of him in the morning, promising she'd cook dinner tonight so he wouldn't have to. Chrono looked forward to it.

Arriving at school, he was running a little late. The classrooms were already filling up. Class would start in a few minutes. Opening his locker to get his shoes, Chrono realized he could not. Thumbed and wrinkled, his obstacle laid stacked on top of them. The shiny, glossy surface of the paper was tarnished with wear and dust. Wondering who'd put trash in his locker, Chrono let the bent back of the paper slide out of the locker and into his hand. Bending under its own weight and reflecting the light, the cover made itself known to him. Piecing things together in an instant, the imagery already burned into his eyes, pure dread overcame him and turning the pit of his stomach, twisting it as his heart stopped beating in his chest. Chrono instantly stuffed the magazine back into his locker and slammed the door shut.

He thought, that maybe he didn't have to go to school today. Maybe he could just go back home, go back to bed, and never come back ever again. The last of the other students left, hurrying up the stairs. He would be late now, he thought. He didn't like being late. He didn't like standing in front of the class, apologizing. His throat burned. Chrono felt almost like he might cry, if the tears weren't so far away, if the panic wasn't freezing him in place. Chrono couldn't recognize the benefits of a healthy amount of rage; not at this time. Minutes passed. A few people came and went. When the initial shock had passed, Chrono still felt sick. He opened his locker again, slowly, as if to make sure it was still there.

It was.

He had a problem to solve. But he didn't know how. Skipping school wasn't an option. What if they called home? His dinner night with Mikuru would be ruined. He'd been looking forward to it so much. He could try and go throw it away, but it would take too much time. The only public trash cans or recycle stations nearby were at the convenience store. Even if he went, what if someone saw him? He wasn't sure how he could discreetly dispose of it. If he left it in his locker there was always a chance it would get searched. In fact, he was quite convinced it would get searched. Why else plant this here? Would it be better to put it in his bag, take it with him; as to at least get it out of his locker? He considered his options, but it they all seemed like dead ends.

It never occurred to Chrono to call a teacher. He was too humiliated to do that. He couldn't bear it.

Chrono closed his locker again. He'd gotten his shoes out, and put his sneakers back in their place, all while trying not to look directly into his locker.

He had to go to class. He knew the stares he'd be getting upon arriving. Chrono hated above else his own reaction. He was so unlike himself. The shame seeped into his pores, through his skin, stained him to the bone. His usual sharpness had been successfully tamed. He didn't want to think about why, or how. He didn't want to know.

 

 

 

Shion had always known. He'd always been aware, even if he might fail to make all the connections. Life long epiphanies awaited, and somehow, he was aware of that too. He feared them. _It was fine,_ he thought. _It would be fine,_ he reassured himself.

After all, no-one had to know. Right?

When he'd asked his parents if he could enroll at the local middle school, he'd argued it would make for good opportunity to learn humility, learn about life, and of the world. As for his own wishes, he saw them align with his argument. It made sense. Why wouldn't it?

He hadn't realized it yet, but Shion had failed to make any friends at school. He hadn't realized yet, but Shion had yet to make any friends, ever. The girls from his class took a liking to him, stuck to him, followed him around whenever they had the chance. Shion thought it was convenient, and played along. It gave him context. When the girls left to retreat to their own bubble, Shion had to familiarize himself with feeling invisible. This turned out to be easy.

Heading back to class after lunch, Shion was on his own. It was easy to hear people speak in the empty corridors. Words stuck to the linoleum floors. Perceptive and receptive, Shion listened. His feet were light. He could walk without making much of a sound, if he wanted. His skills honed in the fencing ring came to good use in that way. 

The conversation he'd overheard was not one held by people he knew. Shion was good at remembering people names and faces. Most of the students in his grade he could place into some sort of context. These boys were no exception.

"I think it's better if we ask a girl, but not one from our class."

"What, you're just gonna walk up and ask?"

"I can't think of any girls who'd mess with Shindou, honestly."

"Do you need a favor?" Shion had appeared among them without a sound. "Sounds like it to me."

He smiled.

Four sets of eyes all on him, Shion stood tall above the other boys. "Would you like for me to relay something to Shindou?"

"No," Was the answer he got spat back at him. "That's fine."

"Oh, I see," Laughing pleasantly, Shion took a single step back, exiting their circle. "Well, I thought I should at least ask."

He could tell the other boys were struggling to read him. It gave Shion a rush of satisfaction. "If he's giving you trouble, it's probably best to keep a low profile. You're not being held in favor right know, you know?"

Shion wanted them to know he thought what they were trying to do was stupid. Even if they found cooperatives, their actions would easily be traced back to them.

"Besides, if Shindou gets angry, who knows what he'll do." Shion smiled kindly.

He left, and received no response. Shion went back to class in an orderly fashion. They all knew who he was, and they'd all realized how much he'd likely heard of the conversation. Maybe they hadn't been around to hear the things said in their absence during their suspension, but Shion hoped he'd been able to help them come to their senses one way or another.

 

 

 

It was cleaning day. Assigned to sweep the hallway floors on the third floor, Chrono concentrated on his work. He was in no hurry. He'd been on edge all day, but the metaphorical bear trap around his leg had yet to snap shut. A little physical activity might help him take his mind off of things, but it only seemed to make his anxiety settle in his body instead of his thoughts. He was used to his head being mostly empty. Chrono would catch himself daydreaming sometimes, but it was mostly of nothing. More recently, his thoughts had started revolving more around the type of things kids his age usually thought of. Of adventure, of distant lands, of mystical things. He still felt unable to relate to anyone his age. Their interests, their conversations, much of it still felt alien. Chrono didn't understand, and he was convinced he never would understand. Was he in the wrong? Should he have turned a blind eye? Was he being rightfully punished? Was it normal what his classmates had done, and should he simply have walked away? Were they always bringing that sort of stuff to school, only he didn't know? Was everyone going to look at him now, and think that he broke the silent agreement not to tell?

Glaring at the fibers of the mop he used, Chrono wiped the floors, circling the hallway a few extra times, lost in his own lawless world of confusion.

He refused to believe he deserved punishment. He was the one who'd followed the rules. He was able to accept that, but he still wasn't satisfied. His problem still remained unsolved, and he still felt sick. Something, or maybe everything, felt so hurtful, so unfair.

Soon, it was getting a little late, getting a little dark, and Chrono could only procrastinate for so long. He volunteered to put the cleaning supplies away, and was eventually on his way downstairs to go home.

There was no one on the bottom floor. He could hear distant voices, indicating that there were still people in the building, making it impossible to relax. After he'd come down the stairs, and successfully snuck in between the locker rows, he realized he still didn't have a plan. After this long day, he just wanted to empty his locker and go home. But what would he do once he got home? Hide it away, hoping Mikuru would never find it, and constantly live in fear she would?

Chrono didn't want to bring something like that into her house. The idea disturbed him.

He stood frozen in front of his locker once more. He finally had a chance to get rid of what plagued him, and he didn't know how.

"Oh, excuse me," The voice made Chrono jump out of his skin.

He turned around, forcing himself to. He tried to look normal, not sure if he'd succeeded.

Shion smiled at him. "Do you have any trash?"

Chrono felt something sting in his eyes. He could not speak.

Shion spoke lighter than usual. He was holding in his hands, a large plastic bag filled to the brim. "We're just about to throw these away. So if you have any trash, you can throw it away in the bags down the hall,"

He gestured to the left, behind him, to a spot not visible from where they were standing. Chrono knew where they usually put the trash before they threw it all away.

"Anyway, see you around," Shion didn't wait for him to answer, but left to dump the trash in the container outside the school.

It took Chrono a few seconds to realize what had just happened. When it hit him, it hit him hard. Chrono saw Shion's back turned, just outside. Tearing his locker open, Chrono threw his shoes on the floor. Inside the jacket of his uniform- thank god they still wore the winter uniform- he stuffed the magazine, and rushed down the hall with hasty steps, feeling a cold sweat. Down the hall, no one was around. It had just been Shion collecting the trash. Steadfast, and with more force than necessary, Chrono shoved the magazine down, lodging it deep between the different tried up plastic bags from classrooms, bathrooms and offices around the school.

"If you're finished with it, could you tie it up for me?"

Shion's voice rang out from across the hallway. Chrono sucked a breath sharp, and did just that. Tying it hard, one, two, three times.

"Thanks. I'll take it out."

Fists clenched, Chrono whipped around. When he passed Shion on his way out, he mumbled under his breath.

Shion watched him go.

"You're welcome."

Chrono heard him from beyond the doors. The spring air was fresh. Picking up speed, Chrono practically bolted off the school grounds.

This would all be on his mind for some time. It would be hard to forget. But for now, he dared to be relieved it was over.

Shion threw the last big plastic bag away. He hadn't seen exactly what his classmates had planted in his locker to torment him, and he didn't want or need to. He'd heard them talk. Shion would remember what they'd said for a long time, too. Shion was good at ignoring his fears and worries. He was good at silencing those voices inside his head, and as long as he did, he would never know what it meant to live true to yourself.

For today, the story had a happy ending. Shion knew what happy endings were supposed to be like, even if he couldn't visualize one for himself.

Now buried under a few weeks worth of paper trash and banana peels and candy wrappers and what else had been accumulating in the garbage bins at the public middle school in Sumida, Asakusa, was an issue of the bi-monthly gentlemen's magazine, _Bears &BDSM_. From where it'd been acquired, well, that remained a mystery.

 

 

 

For dinner, Mikuru made them stew. It was a simple recipe, with a simple taste. Chrono enjoyed it, but more so the simple conversations they had.

Before going to bed, he laid around his room. He thought about Tokoha, who'd bailed him out the first time, and Shion, who'd done it the second time. He felt dissatisfied. He felt like there were still things about what had happened that he didn't understand. He didn't know why things had come together the way they had. Only barely grasping at something abstract, he quickly gave up. Maybe some people weren't so bad. Maybe there were those who could understand him, even if he didn't quite understand that either; at least not yet.

For some reason, he remembered the girl's magazine he'd stuffed away in his drawer. He'd wanted to read it, but hadn't actually done so. Now, the unease had washed away. As he laid on his bed, he flipped through the pages, vaguely listening to Mikuru in the other room, watching television, talking on the phone. The publication in itself was well put together, he thought. Not all articles interested him, but the news digest was a little more in-depth and offered a different perspective than what he was used to in _Weekly Vanguard_. They had an extra feature on a new set of supplies which caught his eye. He wouldn't be spending any money on it, but it was fun to see the different kinds of collectibles that existed. There was also a rather dedicated advice section, with everything from deck building tips to how to deal with toxic people at locals. It was pretty hands-on, and Chrono enjoyed reading most of the questions and replies.

The interview was really interesting. It didn't just talk about Vanguard, but about the life in the pro league, and about the personal strifes and struggles of the interviewee. Chrono took note of many things. Olivier Gaillard, raised in an orphanage in Paris. When asked about his interests outside of Vanguard, he spoke of his love of the culinary arts and children. When asked about his taste in women, he laughed it off. When asked about what he loved the most about Vanguard he spoke of the people he'd met, the bonds he'd made, and the friendships he'd built; sometimes in the most unexpected ways.

Chrono read it several times over.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Shion wasn't prone to forgetting, but sometimes unexpected things happened. They'd made plans a week or so ahead of time. He'd apologized, more than once, but it came off as insincere. He'd broken it to them at school, during lunch break. Chrono had rested his head in his hand, and appeared to zone out. He was disappointed. Tokoha was angry.

"Are you for real? How're we going to be serious about this if you're gonna cancel on us two days ahead of time?"

"I'm really sorry." Shion apologized yet again. "I might be able to sneak out a bit earlier. If I'm lucky."

"If you're lucky, huh?" Tokoha sat down with a thump and crossed her arms.

Chrono said nothing, which was somehow even worse.

Lunch break eventually ended. Going back to class together, Chrono had his hands shoved in his pockets. Tokoha audibly groaned.

"I thought Kiba was more serious than this," She complained.

Chrono didn't know what to say. He wasn't sure what to assume about Shion. "He's serious, I think. About Vanguard, at least."

"Yeah, but the team?" Tokoha asked accusingly.

Chrono stared at her, and needed to not say anything. The conversation was over with that. Arms crossed, Tokoha was embarrassed. It had been her, all along, saying over and over, that she wasn't going to be on any team, that she wasn't interested, that nothing would ever come out of it. She'd been asked by many people. Now for some reason, she'd changed her mind. For some reason, doing it with Chrono and Shion didn't feel so bad. 

 

 

 

On the highway, the limousine rolled smoothly in the traffic. He had done it so many times before, attended family junctions, celebrations, anniversaries, et cetera. Shion was used to it. He was used to it, but today he was distracted.

His phone went off, once, and then again.

"Dear, do you mind?" His mother asked.

"Of course. I'm sorry." Shion set his phone to silent, but not before catching the messages on the screen. 

  

 

> Chrono  14:24
> 
> What do we do about tonight?
> 
> Chrono 14:24
> 
> Anjou, will you be at CC?

 

Putting his phone away, Shion somehow felt worse than before. Was there any reason Tokoha and Chrono couldn't meet up just the two of them? Did they need to cancel their plans completely just because he couldn't make it?

Meanwhile, Tokoha left Chrono on read, throwing her phone back down on her bed. She went to go take a bath.

At Mikuru's apartment, Chrono was alone. Despite everything, he'd been looking forward to today. He'd done his chores in the week to make time. Laundry, vacuuming. He'd even set aside some money. He waited for Tokoha to respond, but when a full hour passed, he gave up. Laying on his bed, unable to think of anything else to do with his Saturday, Chrono felt fatigue overcome him. He closed his eyes. It had been a silly idea anyway, he thought. The team had been doomed from the start.

The concept slipped through his fingers and faded away. Letting go of things used to be so easy, and feel so good.

For some reason, it didn't feel like that this time.

 

 

 

The ceremony was held outdoors. Shion had heard the whispers among his relatives. Some were genuinely upset that his cousin had decided to go with a western style dress for her wedding. They were appalled that she'd break an age-old family tradition, by marrying her high society boyfriend in a dress, while wearing a veil. No one asked Shion, but he carefully listened to the conversations. Behind his facade, and without him realizing it, they wore him down, alienated him.

It was a beautiful spring wedding. When they were younger, Shion and his cousin had sometimes played together. She was four years older than him. As a child, he'd thought that was a lot. Now, he understood how little it was. The present she lived now, was only so far away. His mother's elder brother, his cousin's father, led her down the aisle. No one had asked Shion, but he thought the dress was quite beautiful. With her hair up, her lips red, face obscured by the veil, his cousin was smiling, nervously, excitedly. Shion's eyes were stinging. If he cried now, no one would question it.

 

 

 

Tokoha didn't cry. The world was an infuriating and confusing place, but it was not necessarily complex. Things were actually quite simple. If things didn't go her way, there was usually an obvious reason. If she felt displeased or uncomfortable, there was usually an obvious reason for that, too. If she could think of none, then that just meant it was her own fault. She'd swallow her tears, and accept the simple truth. This was how things were, and how they would always be. 

In her own world, Tokoha was always true to herself. In other people's worlds, she didn't know who she was, or who she wanted to be. Tokoha knew what it meant to resonate with others, but her own convictions were aimless. She was hardworking and clear-headed, fruitless and flustered. The world was an infuriating and confusing place. Tokoha knew she didn't have any answers. Her natural ambition pushed her forward, and only forward, but the future was a white canvas. She'd tried so hard, so many times, but nothing ever took shape.

The door slammed. Tokoha had finished her bath, her hair still wet, lounging in the living room when her brother came back home. He'd seen her, and expressed his surprise in place of greeting.

"I... thought you had plans today," Mamoru sounded let down. To him, Tokoha forming a team had been nothing but good news.

"Tokoha is upset. A boy cancelled on her,"

Tokoha's expression soured.

"Oh... really?" Mamoru sounded doubtful.

 _"Dad, that's not-"_ Her father's voice overheard from behind her, Tokoha was ready to swing wildly at his statement. _"That's not what happened."_

"Oh, but you were so disappointed, weren't you? You came home fuming about how Kiba cancelled on you, didn't you?" Her mother's tone mimicked that of her father's.

Wearing her bathrobe, Tokoha burst from her chair. **_"It's-"_ ** Beyond angry, her voice was trembling, the words not cooperating. _**"Vanguard, okay?**  I want to play Vanguard. Nothing else, **nothing else,** okay?!"_

With the top layer of her anger blown off, Tokoha realized how out of place her outburst was to anyone but herself. Her parents stared. Embarrassed, her face losing its color, she left the room. She didn't see the sympathetic expression on her brother's face, too humiliated to look at him.

In her room, Tokoha grabbed her phone and read once more the messages Chrono had sent her.

She'd looked forward to today, too. She'd looked forward to indulging in something that was completely and fully her own, to be able to feel like she could be only herself. Tokoha didn't cry. Tokoha decided to act. 

 

 

 

The cake and the food served, the reception would last through the night. Shion had grown increasingly distant. He was good at hiding it. When the bride's mother stood to speak of her daughter's bright future, he secretly felt unbearably exhausted. Finally free to wander by himself, he found an abandoned table that people had been seated by, and with not much else on his mind, Shion reached into his pocket. He stared at the latest messages in the group chat, same as they'd been hours ago. Then, before his eyes, as if by magic, he saw the three dots appear at the bottom of the screen.

 

 

> Tokoha 18:16
> 
> Shindou, be at the noth burger by the station in 20 minutes. Got it?

 

The voices around him never died down, but to him, they grew faint. He didn't realize he'd grown transparent. A tap on his shoulder and reality came rushing back.

"I couldn't help but notice young sir, that you appear to be feeling unwell,"

Unlike himself, Shion struggled to grasp the hidden meaning. Iwakura provided the excuses he needed to be on his way ahead of time. A warm spring day outside of town turned into cold spring showers in the city.

"C-could we maybe..." The city's scenery was rushing them by. Shion searched for excuses, for a context. Anything. "Stop by the card shop? I... I left my bike there last week. I'd like to pick it up."

Shion only rode his bike to school so often. He loved it. That, and taking the train.

"Of course, young sir. I'll see to it."

Iwakura smiled. He watched Shion in the backseat, squirming ever so slightly with excitement like the child he still was. Once outside the shop, now closed since a while back, Shion emerged from the car, grabbing the bag he'd initially left behind in the backseat. His bike was not that hard to spot in the roadside bike stand, and as he hurried to unlock it, he struggled with the combination lock. With a sharp tug, his bike came lose with a metallic scramble.

The bike naturally wouldn't fit in the car. "I, I'll just ride the bike home, okay?"

Shion's smile was like crack on his face about to burst. His parents wouldn't be home for several hours.

"Certainly, young sir. Take care."

Iwakura said nothing when he saw Shion take off in the opposite direction. That was not his way home. As the sun shower turned into pouring rain, Shion was headed for the station, under the suspended highway, past the bridge lined with the red light posts, past the Asakusa metro station's 4th exit. As he biked alongside the river, it grew darker out. The Tokyo Sky Tree, standing tall and near on the horizon, illuminating the sky with glistering lights, blue that turned purple, into pink, into red, into orange and then yellow. Shion watched the lights, the city line. He'd make it, he thought. He had to. 

Once he burst through the entrance to the burger joint, half drenched, he'd become disoriented with adrenaline. He returned to reality only as soon as his presence was acknowledged. Shion had arrived, unexpected, uninvited.

"I, uh," He smiled, a fool's smile, a smile true and honest to himself. "Got to leave a bit earlier."

Chrono and Tokoha stared at him. His grip on his bag was tight, and he was still out of breath.

"You didn't have to... I mean..." Tokoha found her voice first, but not her words.

"...Are you okay?" Chrono asked, voicing the sentiment found in Tokoha's tone.

"I'm okay," Shion said, and as the words left his mouth, it became true. "I'm okay now."

"I hope I'm not too late," Even if that was the case, Shion wouldn't regret coming.

"Oh, you're not. Either way, Shindou just got here too," Tokoha smiled.

"Yeah, 'cause someone decided to sporadically text me after like, 4 hours..." Chrono smiled too, despite his words.

When the grease traps clicked back in place, his burger served hot and his soda cold, Shion returned to his seat. He'd bought his friends extra fries. Tokoha borrowed him a small towel from her bag so he could dry himself off. Chrono asked about the party, and when Shion responded sparsely he didn't ask any more. Graced by presence unknown, a familiar but unnamed feeling, Shion's restlessness evaporated. He'd longed to come here so, and now he knew why. He'd soon forget; they all would, forget about the confusion, forget about the strife, the chores and the future decided and undecided.

It was undramatic. Tokoha wouldn't realize until later. That for once, her own headstrong and steadfast self could shine through without compromise. The boys made it so easy. When they looked at her, she could be only herself. Maybe the team didn't really matter, but that feeling mattered more than almost anything.

Chrono wasn't so clueless, but when things fell into place so nicely he wasn't about to question it or think about it too hard. He'd never had friends before, so he wasn't sure what it was supposed to be like. But perhaps, it felt something like this. He'd become good at highlighting the difference between himself and others, but Shion and Tokoha kept throwing him off, making him work hard. Maybe it was best to give up, he thought. Tonight he wouldn't think about it.

He had more important things to think about, anyway.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is hella inaccurate bc there actually isn't any ~~mos~~ noth burger location by any of the asakusa station exits. there's only burger king.
> 
> in this story, what happens to chrono is very similar to something that happened to me when i was around that age. watching g s1, it reminded me a lot of my own childhood, so it only felt appropriate. it's like an exchange of sorts.
> 
> anyhow. both as a personal piece and as a character piece... or as commentary on what it's like growing up not-straight, the story speaks best for itself. so this note ends here. thank you for reading.


End file.
